OK, if "sweat is fat crying," then my fat just had a "my-boyfriend-cheated-on-me-so-I'm-gonna-watch-the-Notebook-in-the-dark-and-throw-my-pint-of-ice-cream-at-the-TV-screen-because-no-one-is-as-perfect-as-Ryan-Gosling" sobfest.
Holy mother. The yoga we're doing is hot yoga, which I've never done before. And I'd only taken two yoga classes in my life before this (one at the drama festival in Nebraska summer after my freshman year of high school, "Yoga for Actors," and one in Chile at the studio down the street from my host mom's house ... which was a year and a half ago ...) so this was just a whole new level. I walked in and thought, "Love this!" because I'm always cold, but when we started working — joder. Sweat just poured out of me. It was good though; felt healthy. And different; it was just like rain, running off your skin. Crazy.
I was very proud of myself for the first 45 minutes or so (I think that's how long; there are no clocks in zen yoga land), and was keeping up and not in too much pain and able to do much more than I'd expected. But then I took too many sips at a water break, and we did something where we were jabbing our elbow into our side, and I went: Uh-oh. Nausea. Nausea in a very hot, dark room. My stomach felt sloshy; I was remembering that disgusting tomato-tastic glutathione juice for dinner ... it was not good. So I got out of the room into the relatively cooler reception area, and lay on a wooden bench out there and talked to the very nice gal at the front desk. (She said she was proud of me for how much I'd done, which is a totally cool thing to hear from a total stranger.)
Anyway. That's a long build-up to explain my low point tonight. Feeling sick, feeling grumpy about feeling sick, feeling worried that I might actually puke and then not stop puking as has happened so many times before; it just dragged me down. Then we got back to Courtney's house (had to prepare my morning juice) and her roommate (whom I love!) was making delicious-looking white-chocolate-dipped pretzels for her first-grade class, and we were still on juice ... it was just tough. That's the first time (I mean, we've only been at this two days) that I really thought, This juice fast is stupid. Who am I kidding? I'm not healthy!
But I'm feeling better now, so my mood is back up to where it should be. Feeling strong, body and mind (probably sweated out a pound in water weight, so I feel a bit trimmer, too), and ready for tomorrow.
I think what I have going for me in this is stubbornness. This is another one of those identity traits of mine I'm not sure defines me now as much as it used to, when I was a very hardheaded child, but I think it's still there. That mentality of, I'm not going to do this for any reason other than to do it — to prove I can — to bite my thumb at all the voices, internal and external, who scoff and disparage and doubt.
I don't think I've sat still long enough, in quiet, to really dig into the lessons God's putting before me in this. Courtney & I've touched on them briefly: the benefit of gently pushing down that desire for instant gratification; of strengthening the muscle of self-control; of teaching food who's boss. Hopefully I'll slow down soon.
It's getting late, so off to bed I should go. Here's what I get in the morning: The aptly named "Really green juice," with cucumber, green apples, spinach, and oranges.
— molls
No comments:
Post a Comment